


I Want To Break Free

by TakeItEezy



Series: Addicted to You [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood, Dark, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gabriel is an asshole, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), I’ll add more tags as I go along, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Vomiting, just putting these guys through hell, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-10-25 16:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeItEezy/pseuds/TakeItEezy
Summary: Anthony Crowley, a drug addict, doesn’t like being put in a box, especially if that box included doctors and psychologists. However, Solomon Aziraphale makes him realize that this could be his chance to break free from the life he had before. But, will Aziraphale be stuck in his old life forever? Would he ever allow himself to get better?





	1. Chapter 1

“Can you hear me...?” The voice was strange, distorted. “Hello...?”  
There were sirens. It felt like the ground was moving as he shivered. Sweat dripped down his shirt and he felt a prick on his arm. Someone must have taken the syringe from him, probably another addict. Suddenly, he was wrapped in something warm, something comforting. The world was a dark blur, he could hardly see anything.  
“Give... give it back, you bastard!” He lashed out, getting up out of the chair he was apparently in, flinging out his arm out to hit whoever took his needle from him and-  
He blacked out.  
...  
He slowly began to come back into consciousness as he felt a pressure building up in his arm, then release.  
Beep... beep... beep...  
He was in a hospital. Someone had brought him to a goddamn hospital.  
He sat up quickly, opening his eyes then immediately regretting it. His head was pounding. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and it felt like the worst migraine he had ever experienced.  
Someone knocked gently on the door then came in. She was holding a clipboard with several pages, flicking through them.  
“Hello, Mr. Crowley. I’m Dr. Michael. I will be your doctor for now.” She pursed her lips for a second. “Looks like you’ll be going to the psych ward after you’re physically better.”  
“WHAT?!” Anthony screamed, immediately sitting up and opening his eyes. “No way. No fucking way I’m getting admitted.”  
He tried to get up, despite the shooting headache and found himself on the ground. His arm ached, and his fingers fumbled until they found where his IV was. He suddenly felt hands gripping his shoulders, then a needle jammed into his arm and he yelled as he squirmed.  
“GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” He roared. “Get... me...”  
He blacked out once again, but this time, he knew who to blame. Dr. Michael.  
...  
For a few days, Crowley was in and out of consciousness. Every time he woke up, he found himself violently vomiting in a conveniently placed bucket, and every time he woke up, he found that someone had cleaned it out. Finally, he started to come to.  
The first thing he noticed was the fact that he was the fact that the beeping had stopped. He was no longer hooked up to any machines. The next thing was that he was no longer wearing his skinny jeans, black t-shirt, or his leather jacket. He wore completely white clothes, just like the blank walls around him. Pure white. Nothing but the bed was in there with him. Not even another chair. Just a table on which sat a glass of water. As soon as he saw the water, he realized how parched he was and grabbed the glass, gulping down the water until there was nothing left. He was shivering like there was no tomorrow, feeling as if the room was below freezing. He grabbed the strange hospital socks, put them on, and got up, going straight to the door.  
Locked. Anthony growled, banging on the door.  
“Let me out of here, you stupid bastards, or I’ll sue you!”  
Sure enough, after a few seconds the door opened up, an annoyingly friendly face on the other side of it. He wore a stupid lab coat like the rest of the damn doctors around there.  
“Hello, Anthony!” He was standing in the middle of the doorway, not allowing for passage through. “I’m doctor Gabriel, your new psychiatrist. I’ll be taking care of you during your stay here.”  
“I’m not going to be staying here for very long.” Crowley smiled a cold smile. “In fact, I’m ready to be discharged.”  
“I’m afraid not.” Dr. Gabriel’s voice became vaguely threatening. “You were arrested, but they insisted on you staying here in order for you to recover from your addiction. I’m not sure what they’re going to do afterwards. Officer Pulsifer just insisted that we keep this under raps. So I’m going to be keeping you here until I feel you are safe to go. Why don’t you go meet the other patients?” He stepped to the side, allowing for Crowley to see past the doorway.  
What he saw seemed like a joke.  
The walls of the corridor were pastel lavender with a few blue stripes. He stepped out, looking to the left and right. To the left was a door, one that most likely headed to the rest of the hospital. As tempted as he was to take a run for it, he knew that if he did, they would just drug him up (not in a fun way) and put him into the white room again. So he went to the right.  
The hallway led out to a large room which was speckled with people. It’s walls were a baby blue color, although it had a few plastered up parts here and there. Crowley snorted.  
‘I wonder why they’d be angry to be in this hell hole.’ He thought sarcastically to himself.  
“This is the cafeteria,” Dr. Gabriel’s voice sounded behind him and he jumped, startled, “where people usually eat and hang out. There are, however, some other rooms. I’ll show you around.”  
The tour was outrageously boring, but the ward seemed rather large. Every room had a camera, even the bathrooms and the showers.  
“You watch us shit?!” Crowley had said, shocked and disturbed.  
“You’d be surprised what could happen in bathrooms.” Dr. Gabriel answered in a flippant, nonchalant way, but the sentiment made Crowley shiver.  
After what seemed like forever, they arrived at the bedrooms. Dr. Gabriel gestured to the first room on the right, where a man was laying down, his back to the door.  
“You’ll be sharing a room with one of our other patients, Solomon Aziraphale ”  
Crowley walked into the room and looked around. It was a small room that looked relatively clean and sterile. Obviously, Aziraphale hadn’t been there for long since he had put no decorations up, but there was a large stack of books next to his bed.  
The man rolled over revealing a book beside him, blinking the tiredness out of his blue eyes. His hair was rather unkempt and a very light blond. His face rather boyish, as if there was always a glint of whimsy, however, he also looked extremely mature for a man of his age. He wore the same clothes as the other man, obviously not one to try and ask for something else. He wore reading glasses, which he took off as Crowley headed in to the room as he smiled warmly.  
“Oh, hello there!” His voice was cheery and upbeat unlike the rest of the awful place. “Who might you be?”  
“Uh, hi, I’m Crowley. New patient here. Probably not gonna be here for long, really, so don’t get attached.”  
“Ah.” As Aziraphale’s eyes flitted towards Gabriel, a strange look passed over his face, but was quickly replaced with a forced smile. “Of course.”  
Dr. Gabriel clapped. “I’ll leave you two to get aquatinted with one another.” The two men listened to his heels click down the hallway until he turned the corner.  
“I’m Aziraphale, as you are already aware.” The man got up, and stood with his hands behind his back. “If there is anything you would like to know about, I can help you.” He offered. “I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks, but I know the schedule rather well, now. At least mine, that is. Yours will most likely be the same in the beginning, so I could-“  
“Okay, okay, I got it. You know this place and what-not. Whatever. I don’t give a shit about what they want me to do. I’m just gonna sleep.” Crowley got into the other bed and crossed his legs, sighing.  
“You know, they’ll keep you here longer if you don’t adhere to the program.”  
Crowley groaned in annoyance. His head still hurt, and he wanted so badly to get sunglasses to block out the fluorescent light. He covered his eyes in the crook of his elbow. This would have to do.  
“I could get you sunglasses if that would be better.” Aziraphale offered, and Crowley grunted. “I’ll take that as a yes.”  
...  
For his first day, Crowley refused to get up, hoping that Aziraphale had been lying for some reason and that they would kick him out for being uncooperative, but the therapists just ended up coming to him, threatening him with extended stays, which ended up being his only reason for going to any therapies in general.  
By the time he had gotten himself out of his room, it was almost 8. While that was when the residents were supposed to be in their rooms anyway, Crowley wanted to stretch his legs a little bit. Plus, he wanted to see what his roommate was really like in his “natural habitat” (AKA doing what he liked best). He grabbed his sunglasses, slid them on his face, then set off to find him.  
At first, he searched the resting room, the place where the patients can go to relax after therapy sessions. No luck. The cafeteria? Nope. The kitchens? Nada. The study room? Nah. Just before he gave up, he remembered the huge stack of books Solomon had by the side of his bed, and went to look in the library.  
Aziraphale sat behind one of the last stacks. There were seats all along the shelves, but this one seemed to be where he felt most comfortable, as he seemed to be completely in his element.  
For a second, Crowley had a voice in his head telling him to go over and talk with him. He looked so lonely and could obviously use a friend, but instead, he slipped back into the shadows, went back to the room, and tried to fall asleep, wishing that time could pass by quicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! I decided to write some more GO stuff because I am Trash and will do anything to procrastinate doing things that are actually important, like my homework! I have no beta. I know this is rough, but I’m still trying to regain my writing confidence so I can continue to pump out good content!  
I chose the name Solomon because king Solomon was a man of peace and a man of great wisdom.  
There WILL be more chapters, I just don’t know how to make it look like there will be more chapters.  
Leaving a comment or kudos would be SUPER cool! Thanks!  
See ya in hopefully a few days!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the self-harm tag kicks in. Please be careful and don’t read this if you don’t think you can handle it!!  
Stay safe!!  
Okay, so I wrote this one in a surprisingly short amount of time. It took me 2 late nights to write this. I did write this instead of sleeping. That will be true for all of the chapters of this story. I had no editor, so please excuse my errors.  
Also, kudos and comments are always appreciated! They seem to give me motivation to continue the work.  
Bye for now!

Crowley woke up and immediately wished he hadn’t. His entire body felt like one giant bruise. He groaned, then heard the sound of someone turning a page in a book.  
“How do you sleep on these beds and manage to still get up in the morning?” Crowley mumbled sleepily.  
“What?” Aziraphale sounded confused.  
“I said...” Crowley started as he rolled over, then decided to leave it. “Never mind. Just talking to myself.”  
The other man let out a “hm,” then closed his book.  
“The first thing we do is we get together in one of the group therapy rooms and talk about what is on our minds.” He put the book back into his pile and swung his feet to the side of the bed. “It’s usually a rather boring group, but it helps resolve some issues between residents. It’s usually led by Dr. Uriel. She’s rather good at being impartial and a mediator.”  
“Great.” Crowley said sarcastically. “Can’t wait to chat with the lunatics.”  
Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I’m going to pretend you never said that.” He scratched at his arm, and Crowley saw something that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed before. There were large scars all up and down the other mans arm. Some were just starting to heal, but others were white, puffy lines. They had obviously been pretty bad, as some of them looked like they had needed to be stitched up. Aziraphale blushed as he saw the horrified look on Crowley’s face and turned his arm so that the scars were facing himself.  
A nurse barged through the door before either of them could say anything, and ushered them out of the room, telling them that they were late for group. Crowley hardly had enough time to grab his sunglasses before they were practically pushed out of the room. They gave Aziraphale a glass of water and a cup of pills, and he took them without complaint, swallowing the pills and finishing the water quickly.  
By the time they had gotten there, some of the residents already seemed rather riled up about something. The chairs were set up in a circle, and a youngish, dark skinned lady held a clipboard and was jotting down quick notes. Her legs were crossed, but her posture was impeccable.  
“I was reading that book, and Solomon just took it off the shelf as if it was his!” One of them complained.  
“I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.” She said in a soothing voice.  
“She’s right.” Aziraphale said as he sat down in one of the two empty chairs. “What was it called?”  
“Musicophilia.” He said, crossing his arms.  
“Ah, yes! Oliver Sacks.” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “What a wonderful book. I’ll be sure to get it to you after group, Trevor, my dear boy.”  
“Yeah, right, you dickbag.” The ‘dear boy’ got up and walked over to where the other man was sitting, towering over him. “If you don’t give it to me now, I’ll knock your teeth out.”  
“Trevor,” Dr. Uriel’s voice was low, “you know the rules about leaving group. He’ll get it to you after. Now please sit down.”  
Trevor paused for a moment, then growled and stalked back to his seat.  
“Now everybody,” Dr. Uriel cleared her throat, “we have a new member joining us. This is...” she gestured towards Crowley, waiting for him to say what he wanted people to call him.  
“Crowley.” He said in a half grunt, half growl.  
“Lets do introductions.” She said in a chipper voice as Crowley slouched down in his seat.  
There was Judy, Nathan, Trevor, Davis, Ezra, Emily, Richard, and (of course) Aziraphale.  
“My name is Solomon,” he had said, “some people call me Sol, but most people call me by my last name, Aziraphale. I guess it just fits my personality a little better.” He smiled, and something in Crowley’s chest lit up. He didn’t know what it was, all he knew was that he felt like Aziraphale was a good person and that he liked him.  
Most of the rest of the group was people either complaining about their families, the lack of electronics, and the shitty food they were given.  
When it came to Crowley to share, he said, “Fine weather we’re having this time of the year.” It was a joke, but Trevor didn’t seem to think it was very funny, since he started yelling about how he was never let outside, so he wouldn’t know. Everyone went silent until he finally tired himself out. At that point, group was over.  
When Aziraphale left the group, Trevor followed after him.  
Crowley sulked into the resting room, which was right next to the hall of bedrooms, and plopped into one of the comfy chairs. He closed his eyes and was about to take a small nap when he heard yelling. He spun around to see a bunch of people in hospital clothes dragging a screaming Trevor out of the hall. Dr. Gabriel appeared, holding a syringe, and jabbed it into his arm. After a few seconds, Trevor stopped fighting and went limp as they dragged him off to god knows where.  
Crowley stood up quickly. The yelling, the kicking and screaming...  
“Aziraphale.” He breathed, and walked as quickly as he could back to the room. Aziraphale was on his knees, holding his stomach and breathing heavily. His left eye was already getting puffy as he slowly got up, looking rather dizzy. Crowley practically ran over to him.  
“What the hell happened?!” He whispered in his roommates ear as he helped him get up.  
“Trevor... he gets very angry very quickly, and got rather impatient as I looked through my books. So he lashed out.” Aziraphale shrugged.  
“And decided to kick the shit out of you?!” Crowley was horrified at how calm his... okay, his friend was.  
“It’s fine.” As he stood up, he brushed himself off. “It’s just another day with Trevor around. No broken ribs. Although he hasn’t done this for a few days. I’m rather proud of him for keeping it together for this long.”  
“Proud of him?!” At this point, Crowley was practically seething.  
Aziraphale hummed, then sighed. “I’m about to go to the resting room. Would you like to come with me?”  
“Yeah.” Crowley tried to play it cool. He hadn’t had a friend who just wanted to be around him without drugs for a long time. It seemed that the only way other people could stand him was when he was high. Plus, Aziraphale was really, sincerely, a nice guy, and he had a thing for nice guys.  
As soon as that thought popped into his head, he blushed and tried to erase the fact that he had ever thought that.  
“I’ve been rather into solitaire recently, but I figured that we should get to know each other.” He said as they went into the room. “My other roommate... well, he left right before you came.” Aziraphale sounded quite sad, and Crowley was tempted to ask why, but he decided against it. “He was a rather nice guy. I’ll miss him.” Suddenly, Crowley felt a pang of jealousy, but he swallowed it down before he could say what he wanted to say.  
“Yeah, well, he’s gone now.” He said instead of something much crueler, but it still made Aziraphale look a little sad.  
“I hope he’s alright...”  
“So why are you here?” Crowley asked, trying to change the topic. That was obviously the wrong question to ask, as the other man looked down.  
“When you’re in places like this, you don’t ask that question. It’s not jail. No one is proud to be here.” He snapped, and Crowley decided that he should probably stop talking. Aziraphale sat at the table and grabbed the cards. He shuffled them a few times before starting to place them on the table, setting up a game of solitaire.  
“What games do you like to play?” Asked Aziraphale, not looking up from his cards.  
“I guess as a child I used to play... chess.” He shrugged. “I used to be quite good, but I don’t think I’d be any good now. I hardly remember how the pieces move.”  
Solomon looked up, not stopping his game, a sparkle in his eye. “I’ve read a few books on chess. I ended up teaching myself how to play. Oh, dear...” He looked sadly at his cards, realizing that he had lost his game rather quickly.  
“Maybe...” Crowley began to circles on the table with his finger, “I dunno... if you wanted... well, I’d be willing to learn chess again.”  
Aziraphale looked up, his face lightening up immediately. “Really?” Crowley nodded. “Oh, that would be absolutely lovely! I’ve wanted to play with someone for quite some time now!” They talked for some time until the nurse came in and notified them that lunch was to be served in a few minutes.  
“Oh! Goodness, is it really that time already?” Aziraphale smiled. “I was just getting peckish.”  
As the day progressed, it seemed to be getting a little better, although the dialectical behavioral therapy seemed like more of a class rather than a therapy session. The daytime seemed to be a lot more rigorous than he thought it would be, but all in all, it seemed like a breath of fresh air for Crowley. Away from the danger, the needles, the fear in the life of an addict. Despite how rigorous the schedule was, the parts away from Aziraphale seemed to be the longest and most boring sessions of all.  
There was the group that was way too much like the NA and AA meetings he went to when he was a teenager and was actually trying to recover. Now he was an adult, but he still couldn’t shake the addictions, so the groups only acted as a reminder of his failures. Then, there was individual therapy. Instead of talking, Crowley just scowled his therapist, Dr. Wormwood, for the entire hour. By the time he got into his room, he was exhausted and really pissed off. Aziraphale sat in his bed, reading a book with his legs crossed and his reading glasses perched on his nose. Crowley threw himself face down onto the bed and groaned.  
“I hate this place.”  
“You’re not supposed to like it.” He heard his roommate turn his page as he spoke. “You’re supposed to get better, then get out. If you have to stay for the rest of your life, you go to one of the better facilities. This is temporary.”  
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard Aziraphale hiss in pain, then turned to see the man staring wide-eyed at a bleeding paper cut on his right pointer finger. The look in his eyes was a look that Crowley recognized all too well, and he realized something.  
He was looking at an addict who had just gotten a taste of what it felt like before he’d stopped.  
‘Oh,’ he thought to himself, frozen, ‘this is bad.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful! This chapter has a reference to drug abuse.

Aziraphale stared at the blood, entranced, watching it trickle down his finger.  
“Hey, Sol,” Crowley swung his feet over the side of the bed, slowly getting up, “what are you doing?”  
There was no reply. Suddenly, Solomon grabbed his finger and started squeezing it, making more blood come out.  
“Whoa, buddy, you don’t need to do that.” Crowley spoke in a quiet, calm way.  
“I... I need this.” The man whispered, his hand shaking. Before his nail could come close to the small cut, Crowley grabbed onto his arm and tore it away from the bleeding finger.  
“Aziraphale, don’t you dare.” Crowley growled, grabbed Solomon by the shoulders and slapped him across the face. The man gasped and looked at his roommate, confused.  
“Why did you slap me?” He seemed genuinely confused and horrified, and Crowley rolled his eyes.  
“For fucks sake,” he growled, “you were about to do something stupid and I stopped you. You’re welcome. Now, give me your finger.” Aziraphale held out his bleeding finger, and Crowley took a tissue and pushed it against the paper cut. “Keep pressure on it for a few minutes. It should stop the bleeding. Now let me go the fuck to sleep, angel. It’s been a long day.”  
There was a pause, and Crowley was almost able to fall asleep when...  
“Did you just call me ‘angel’?”  
“Uh...” Anthony blushed and stared at Aziraphale in horror. “Sorry. It’s just a stupid nickname-“  
“I like it.” His roommate glanced at him from the side of his eye and smiled slightly.  
Goddamn, that was cute.  
Crowley rolled over, his back facing Aziraphale as he blushed even deeper.  
Fuck.  
...  
“I saw my dad last night.” Davis said quietly making Crowley jump in surprise. He had been staring out the window, imagining how nice it would be to get out of this god forsaken place, when Davis seemed to appear next to him out of thin air.  
“... O-Oh?” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  
“He looked a lot like you.” Davis nodded towards him. “You didn’t happen to be standing outside of my door last night?”  
“How the hell would I even get passed the doors?”  
“Hm.” He said, tilting his head. Then, as quietly as he came, he drifted away.  
Judy started walking towards Crowley, smiling.  
“How are you, handsome?” She asked.  
“Uh...” Crowley had no idea what to say to that.  
“Cat got your tongue?” She started playing with her hair. “You know, I have a cat, actually. She’s at home. I miss her.” She looked out the window as if she believed that if she looked hard enough, she would see her cat.  
“What are you here for?” The question shocked him. He thought that that question wasn’t allowed, that no one wanted to tell, but he didn’t mind.  
“I gave myself a bit too much heroin, then drank a little. Felt almost like I went into a different dimension. It was rather fun, actually.”  
Judy sucked in through her teeth. “Don’t say that too loud, love. They might hear you, and you don’t want them keeping you here too long. This place isn’t as nice as it seems, nor are the doctors.”  
“So,” Crowley decided to change the subject, there was something that he needed to know more about anyway, “when do you think you’ll be getting out of here?”  
“Oh, I think I’m a couple of days. Couple of nights, too.” She winked and suddenly he felt the urge to either scrub his skin clean or throw up. But if she was leaving in a few days... that meant he would probably be able to get out in a few days too. She seemed just as stable as he was, if not a little less so. “Looks like you might be staying a little longer, though. I heard them talking about maybe a week or two for you, love.”  
“What?!” He growled in annoyance. “This is fucking ridiculous, I’m clearly more stable than most of the people in here.”  
“And where would you live once you got out?” Judy asked, watching for his reaction. He’d move back in with his friends, of course! They’d have some... oh. “That’s what I thought.” She nodded. “You’re gonna need to show them that you’re actively trying to get better and not that you’re just waiting it out. Take your meds, be a good boy, and you’ll be out before you know it!” She patted his cheek, spun around, and walked towards Ezra, and left him the hell alone.  
“I don’t have any meds to take.” He said under his breath.  
“Oh, you will.” Judy said over her shoulder before wrapping her arm around Ezra’s shoulders as they walked happily out into the arts room.  
Dr. Gabriel walked out of his office, then over to Crowley.  
“Hey, Anthony!” He smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “You ready for your first session?”  
“Oh boy!” Crowley plastered a fake smile on his face. “I guess so!”  
As soon as the door to Dr. Gabriel’s office had shut, the smile melted away from Crowley’s face. A file filled with papers lay on his desk, ‘Crowley, A.’ written on the tab.  
“So,” Dr. Gabriel started, clapping his hands together, “you are a very interesting case.” He walked around behind his desk and flipped through his file. “Well, interesting as in long. A long history of drug and alcohol problems stemming from... oof, your early teenage years. Rough start, kid.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I know what I’ve got.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “What do you want with me?”  
“I don’t think you know as much as you think you know about yourself.” The doctor pointedly stared at his tapping finger. “You’re not as put together as you think. In fact, I’m fairly certain you’re going to need to stay here for at least a month.”  
“A MONTH?!” Crowley got up and started to pace, trying to calm himself down. “Why?! What do you want with me?!”  
“A proper diagnosis.” Said Dr. Gabriel in a firm voice.  
“A diagnosis for what?!” Crowley threw up his hands.  
“Anthony, I’m fairly certain you have some anxiety disorder and depression. I need to be able to gage how bad it is, I need to know what medications work for you, and I need to know what dose. It’s going to take some time.” He said, his voice slow and precise.  
“I don’t need medication.” Crowley gripped the chair, his knuckles white.  
“Oh, yes you do.” The doctor raises his eyebrows and nodded. “You definitely do.”  
Crowley gripped the chair tighter, then Judy’s words came back to him.  
“Fine.” He swung himself back into the chair and thought for a second. “I’ll take your damn drugs. Just make them fun ones.” He grinned, but as soon as he saw Gabriel scribbling something down on the paper, his smile disappeared. “I meant that as a joke. I didn’t mean it. Honest to god it was a joke.”  
“I know, Anthony. Don’t worry.” He smiled one of his “winning” smiles at Crowley and gestured for the door. “Your prescriptions have been sent to the pharmacy. You’ll be receiving them tomorrow like everyone else. If you don’t have any more questions, you’re free to go.”  
Crowley couldn’t get up fast enough. He left the room as quickly as he could, then went off to find Aziraphale.  
...  
“I dunno what it is about him.” Crowley complained, sitting in the comfy chair across from Aziraphale. They were sat in the library, a book across Aziraphale’s lap, which he mindlessly stared at. “He just makes me so angry.”  
“He tends to have that effect on people.” He finally put down the book with a sigh and looked up at Crowley. “You learn to tolerate him and his... antics. He can be rather rude, but try not to end up on his bad side. He might send you away for good, and I for one know that you’d hate it.”  
“Well, you’re right about that.” He mumbled, then looked at Aziraphale in surprise. “Wait, how do you know that?”  
“I’m very good at reading people.” He smiled and Crowley’s heart stopped. He wished he had his sun glasses on to hide his emotions, but Aziraphale looked at him with concern.  
“What’s wrong, Crowley? Are you okay?”  
“Absolutely! Tip top! Happy as a clam!”  
“Oh no!” Aziraphale gasped. “I’m late for my CBT group!” He hurried out of the library, and Crowley had never felt as relieved as he did in that moment in his entire life. If his roommate knew what feelings he was trying to keep down, it could ruin their blossoming friendship. He swore, then went quickly back to their room, grabbing his sunglasses, and prayed that they’d mask his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is kinda a mess. A huge mess. I know. But the thing is I want to feature some characters and I didn’t know how. I figured out how I’m going to expand upon some other characters throughout the story, but I think I at least got Judy in there and introduced Davis.  
Anywho, I know these updates aren’t exactly... regular, but I’m in college and trying my hardest to do this as well as juggle several other aspects of my life.  
Hopefully there will only be at most a week between chapters? But we will see.  
Thanks for reading!  
Kudos and comments are SUPER appreciated.  
See y’all in the next one!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful!! Sexual assault in this chapter.

A few weeks went by. Crowley had gotten used to the place, used to the people, he even became friends with some of them. A few days after Judy left, she came back, suddenly unstable and violent, screaming at anyone who came near. She stayed like that for a couple of days, then seemed to float off into her own world. She began talking to the air, introducing her hallucinations to whomever was unlucky enough to walk near her. It was as if the Judy of a few days ago had never existed, or that she was a completely different person all together. She became paranoid, and would accuse people of trying to hurt her, threatening several people who gave her strange looks.  
“I was 13,” Ezra started, her voice quivering. This was the first group that she had really spoken in since Crowley had arrived, “when I had my first drink.” She laughed. “Pretty normal, right? Except when I went home after my bat mitzvah, I kept drinking. My parents didn’t see or-or they might not have cared I have no clue. All I knew was that I was happy.” She sighed. “Happiness was rare back then. Nobody liked me. Nobody cared what I did to myself. If I had a scraped knee, I had to limp to the bathroom and clean it up myself. No one came to help me. So, when I felt happy, I wanted it to stay. For years, it was the same. My parents would buy alcohol, it didn’t matter what kind, I’d drink anything. I would drink it when I was feeling too depressed. But then, I started getting depressed all the time. I drank day in and day out. At one point, I stopped going to school. I was 18. Haven’t gone to school since. I went through boyfriends, girlfriends, lovers, friends. None of them would stay around for very long after they knew me.” She put her head in her hands. “Why did I let it take so much from me?”  
“You’re not the only one.” Crowley said under his breath, and everyone turned to him. “I-I just meant that, you know, other people have been through shit like that before.”  
“And what do you know about it, Crowley?” Dr. Uriel knew exactly where to prod.  
“Excuse me, did I volunteer? No. I didn’t. Next.” He slumped down farther in his chair, adjusting his sunglasses to make sure they blocked his panic at being called out and put on the spot. Aziraphale looked at him, surprised and a little disappointed. Crowley looked away.  
Ezra started crying.  
The rest of the group, he made sure to keep his mouth shut.  
As soon as it was over, instead of Aziraphale walking with him to the resting room, he walked off on his own, ignoring his friends attempts at getting his attention.  
“Solomon!” Crowley grabbed onto his arm and he spun around, looking quite confused and a little angry. “Why aren’t you talking to me?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes.  
“You made that poor girl cry, and you expect me to just... let that slip by?” He jerked his arm out of Crowley’s grasp. “It was very insensitive, what you said in group. I may be forgiving, but what you did back there, invalidating Ezra and not apologizing after she opened up for the first time in god knows how long? That was cruel.” He turned his back on him in frustration and crossed his arms.  
“Look, angel, I’ll go apologize to her. Will that make you happy?”  
Aziraphale’s shoulders relaxed as he heard the familiar nickname. He sighed. “Only if you mean it.”  
“Easy peazy.” Crowley turned on his heel and walked towards Ezra who was sitting in the cafeteria, head in her hands, Emily rubbing her back soothingly as she glared at him.  
“What the hell do you want?” She growled, and Ezra picked up her head to look at him.  
“I’m...” he swallowed and looked at the ground, glaring, “sorry. What I said, it was a defense mechanism. I’ve struggled like that, and I didn’t want to share. Okay? Yup. Everything is fine now.” He turned to walk away, but was enveloped by a huge hug from Ezra.  
“Thank you.” She whispered, then let go, walking slowly backwards towards her seat with her hands clasped in front of her.  
As soon as Crowley turned around, he saw Aziraphale smiling at him. As they were walking together, Dr. Gabriel appeared in front of them, and Sol froze.  
“Are you ready for your appointment, Solomon?” He smiled. Aziraphale just nodded and followed him silently to his office.  
That was odd. Aziraphale always greeted people with a cheerful attitude.  
Crowley followed after them, sitting in the cafeteria as he saw them disappear behind the door. Nathan saw him and walked over to him, sitting across from Crowley.  
“Oof, Aziraphale’s going to Gabriel’s again?” Nathan stared at the office. “That’s not good.”  
“What do you mean?” Crowley felt a pit open up in his stomach. A few seconds later, Aziraphale came charging out of Gabriel’s office, screaming.  
“DON’T TOUCH ME! YOU-YOU ANIMAL!” Nurses appeared at his side and held him in place as they administered a sedative. “You... you...” His voice trailed off as everyone in the cafeteria watched in horror.  
Gabriel walked calmly out of his office and smiled. “Just another one of his outbursts. Nothing to see here!”  
“God, Gabriel is disgusting.” Nathan mumbled just loud enough for Crowley to hear.  
“What?”  
The other man sighed. “Dr. Gabriel seems always to get at the weakest ones. He makes them so terrified and paranoid. After a while, he gets bored and sends them away to a permanent facility. It’s... dreadful.”  
Crowley blinked. “How many times has this happened to Aziraphale?”  
“Three times. Worse every time.”  
Crowley stood up and practically ran to the quarantine rooms. Through the window, he saw that Gabriel had cornered Aziraphale, and that he was way too close. Furious, he tried to bust the door open when a hand grabbed his shoulder.  
“Do you really want to make this worse??” Nathan whispered. “Come with me. I’ve got a plan.”  
Quietly, Nathan knelt down at the door, slipped his hand in his sock, and pulled out two paper clips. Then, he reached into his pants and pulled out a small, disposable camera. He took a picture in the window, checking it for clarity before kneeling by the doorknob and quickly picking the lock.  
“Go on in. I’ve got the evidence, I’ll give it to one of the nurses. You go... do whatever you were planning on doing. If I knew it was this bad, I would have done this sooner.” He took off in the other direction, and Crowley slammed the door open. Dr. Gabriel and Aziraphale froze. The doctors hand was on his chest, and Aziraphale looked close to passing out.  
“C-Crowley?” He muttered as Crowley threw Gabriel off of him, knocking him onto the floor. He straddled the doctor and began punching, seeing red. He wasn’t exactly sure how many times he hit Gabriel before the other man began to fight back. The doctor grabbed his arm mid swing and shoved him off. Before Crowley could do anything, he had his fist gripping his hair, bringing tears to his eyes.  
“Agh...” he grabbed Gabriel’s arm as the doctor took a syringe out of his pocket. Another sedative. Before he could inject it into Crowley, the patient kicked out, and with a cry of pain, the syringe fell to the ground. Quickly, before Gabriel could do anything, he grabbed it and stabbed it into his thigh. With a scream of pain, he went down, stumbling backwards.  
Gasping, he crawled over to Aziraphale, who had curled up on the ground. Then, he heard Nathan’s voice.  
“Oh... Oops. Well, the door was open and he was doing something bad to his roommate, you can’t exactly blame him.” As soon as Crowley turned around, Nathan gave him a wink as a police officer came into the room. Gabriel pointed at Crowley.  
“This man attacked me!” He said in a high pitched voice, his cheek already turning black and blue. “He’s too crazy for us to deal with! Get him out of here and take him to jail or some permanent institution.”  
The officer walked into the room and the doctor grinned in triumph until he grabbed Gabriel by his shoulder and yanked his hands behind his back, shoving him out of the room.  
“Jeffrey Gabriel, you are under arrest for...” his voice trailed off as they went through the door to the main hospital.  
Nathan took a deep breath. “Whoa we are fucking lucky that an officer was visiting his wife.” Then he looked at Aziraphale. “Wow, he’s fucking sedated.”  
“Yeah, I’ve got this. Been in this situation before.” Crowley put his Aziraphale’s arm around his shoulder and picked him up bridal-style. The man mumbled something under his breath that sounded like “’m fine, really”, but Crowley just shushed him.  
“Angel, you need sleep. Just try to enjoy this high as you are conscious.”  
“Don’t like being this high.” He muttered, and Crowley sighed.  
“Then go to sleep.”  
Aziraphale hummed and went completely limp as his roommate carried him back to their room. Nathan followed close behind. Crowley gently placed him down on his bed, trying to ignore the urge to kiss him on the forehead. Instead, he turned his back and left the room, clenching his fist.  
“What do you want?” He looked at Nathan.  
“Whoa, man.” Nathan put his hands up. “I just helped save your friends ass. Just making sure everything is okay.”  
“He’s okay, now leave him alone.” He growled, walking towards him and shoving him away from the room. A few people stared, but looked away as soon as they saw Crowley’s expression.  
“If anyone else goes near him,” he said loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear, “you’ll be on the ground in two seconds.”  
As soon as he walked into the resting room, his adrenaline rush ended, and the pain hit him. His head pounded and the room was spinning. His knuckles hurt like hell and it felt like his other hand might have been fractured. His nose was at a strange angle, and blood dripped onto his shirt.  
Dr. Michael walked into the room and looked at him coldly. “I’ve been sent to fix you up, so come with me.”  
She spun around and Crowley followed.  
After quite a lot of pain and some aspirin, he was feeling a little better and was taken back to the psych ward just in time for sleep.  
As he entered the room, Aziraphale rolled over. He stared at Crowley for a second, his eyes adjusting.  
“Thank you.” He said quietly, and Crowley nodded.  
“Any time, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. So, I made this chapter during the day! Surprise! I was going to do homework, but I got hit hard with the writing bug and just had to write it down. Yes, I know it’s really dark, and it’s going to stay that way for the next one or two chapters, but after that, it’ll probably (emphasis on PROBABLY) get a little lighter. I need to think about what is gonna happen in the next chapters, so it might take me a few days to write them, but I’ll try to produce chapters as fast as possible!  
This is eventually gonna have a happy ending, so it’s not going to be bad all the time.  
I’m kind of thinking of a fluffy chapter as my next one to lighten the mood.  
Kudos and comments are extremely appreciated!  
Love you guys and see you in the next one!


	5. Chapter 5

For almost a week now, Aziraphale had been avoiding Crowley. They’d get up in the morning, go to group, then go their separate ways. When Crowley tried to go into the library, Aziraphale would see him and walk quickly to a different room. If they were forced to be in the same room like they were at night, the blond haired man would read a book which he now brought everywhere he could. After two days, Crowley decided to give up.  
Then, without Aziraphale to keep him company, Crowley and Nathan became fast friends. Both of them had skills that fascinated one another. Nathan could do the best slight of hand tricks, while Crowley taught him some strategy games like chess and Settlers of Catan. They would even gossip about the nurses and the other patients with each other. Nathan secretly kept him updated about Aziraphale, and what he said about the man made Crowley very nervous.  
“He didn’t speak.” Nathan told him while they were alone in the resting room playing chess. “Not once today. It’s makin’ me really nervous, Crow. He’s never been this quiet.”  
“Yeah, well I can’t very well do anything, can I?” He snapped, moved his queen, then looked up to see a very startled Nathan. “Sorry. Just a bit... on edge. I’m really sick of this avoiding thing. It’s really not my thing.”  
“Then you should at least try to talk to him.” Nathan leaned forward. “I’ve never seen two men get as close as you two were in a few days, ever. If you actually want to help him, then try doing the bloody thing yourself.” He moved his bishop. “Check.”  
For a moment, Crowley was lost in thought. Why had he given up on him so quickly? Was it because he didn’t think that Aziraphale would ever like him back? Was he that shallow to throw someone away when they stopped talking to you after a traumatic experience because he had a crush? He finally saw himself in full. He was a selfish prick who used people for his own gain, but for a moment, he had actually felt a real connection. He couldn’t let that get away. Crowley tipped over his king and Nathan looked up at him with a grin.  
“Go get ‘im.”  
He found Aziraphale in the library, right where he knew he’d find him. As soon as he looked up, his friend grabbed his book and tried to leave, but this time, Crowley followed.  
“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked him as he sped up. It was easy to match his pace since his legs were much longer than Aziraphale’s.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said in a quiet but final tone.  
“Angel...” Crowley caught his elbow and Aziraphale looked at him in horror, his pupils dilating. His fight, flight or freeze response had kicked in, and he was frozen on the spot. Crowley looked at his hand and realized he had made a grave mistake. As soon as he let go, Solomon sprinted to their room, and he let out a deep breath, trying to calm down his anger at himself. Slowly, he walked towards the room. When he got to the doorway, his roommate was curled up next to his bed, a book in front of his face, but Crowley could tell he was shaking.  
“Aziraphale,” he started, slowly and quietly, “I’m sorry. I just want to know what happened.”  
“What do you mean?” Aziraphale looked like a deer in headlights.  
“Why did you stop talking to me?”  
The blond let out a deep breath.  
“It’s because... you must have seen at least something.” He muttered, putting the book down. “And you’ve seen that I am... it was my fault.”  
“What?” Crowley said, shocked.  
“I let him do what he did to me. I didn’t even try to stop him-“  
“Aziraphale, you were fucking high!”  
“That doesn’t change anything!” He raised his voice, tears in his eyes. “I should have stopped him! I should have said no! And now... I did this to myself.”  
“No!” Crowley said in a rather high pitched voice, then walked into the room and sat on his own bed, looking at him from across the room. “You didn’t do anything! Gabriel’s the sick fuck who did this to you! NONE of this is your fault.”  
Aziraphale sniffled, and Crowley realized he had been crying. He curled tighter into himself and hid his face.  
“I’m disgusting.” He whimpered, and Crowley’s chest tightened up. “I’m just a tool for everyone else to use. I’m nothing.”  
Crowley walked over and got down on his knees in front of him. “Angel...” He started, then when Aziraphale looked up, he completely changed the direction of where he wanted to take it. He decided that Aziraphale needed a friend, not a lover. “You are not ‘nothing’. You are... something good. What he did to you was his fault. It didn’t make you disgusting. You’re one of the most pure souls I’ve ever met.” Wow, that sounded cheesy, but to his surprise, it worked.  
“I... Thank you.” Sol said softly. “You’re a good friend.”  
“Don’t tell the others,” Crowley joked, grinning, “or they might try to talk to me too, and I’m not a fan of them.”  
He pushed himself to his feet, then helped Aziraphale get up. They began chatting, bickering as they did before, but Crowley knew that the other man had to put in more effort into sounding and looking happy. Some of it was real, his relief for one, but most of it was faked.  
It was, however, a start.  
“Hey!” Nathan smiled as soon as they walked into the room. “Look who the cat dragged in! Missed ya’ Zira! Glad to have you back.”  
Zira? When had they gotten so chummy?  
Aziraphale chuckled. “Where else would I have gone, my dear boy?”  
...  
As soon as the lights went out, Crowley could see that Aziraphale was scared. He knew that being vulnerable would scare him more than anything else, and sleeping made people extremely vulnerable.  
“Hey, angel?”  
“Yes, Crowley?”  
“When was the last time you slept?”  
There was a long pause.  
“A-A few days ago.” He said, obviously anxious. Crowley sighed, then opened his eyes and sat up, stretching. He got up, made sure the door was locked, then walked over to Aziraphale’s bed and sat on the floor next to it.  
“I’ll make sure no one harms you tonight, angel. Get some some rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
This chapter is extremely short, and I’m super sorry about that, but I figured that this scene needed a chapter of its own. I promise you next time it will be a much longer one.  
Sorry about the chapter titles, by the way. I’m really bad at naming things, so I just go with what pops into my head.  
Thank you so much for reading! If you give me kudos or comments, you will get my undying love forever!  
Love you guys! See you in the next one.


	6. Chapter 6

It was late at night, and Crowley couldn’t sleep. He had no idea how late it was, but he didn’t want to move even to just move his head to look at the clock. After a moment full of crushing anxiety, he decided that maybe it would be best for him to pace just to get the energy out. He flung himself out of bed, glancing at the time (2:40 AM) before walking to the door, tempted to leave, but he decided to stay because there was an off chance that he’d get tired. Plus, he didn’t want to wake Aziraphale up. He needed his sleep. When he looked at his roommate, he saw him staring at the ceiling, seeming to try to focus all of his attention on one spot, a tiny crack.   
“What are you doing up this late, Crowley?” He asked, not moving.   
“Couldn’t sleep.”  
“I could gather that much. I meant, what’s on your mind? You usually crash almost instantly, so something must be bothering you immensely. Would you like to talk about it?”   
“‘S nothing.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and in the low light, he thought he saw Aziraphale blush for a second.   
“Come on now, Crowley.” He prodded, and finally, Crowley relented.   
“I guess I was just thinking...” he looked at the wall behind his friend, unable to look him in the eye. “What would I do after I left this place? I’d have nowhere to go. If I went to my friends old flat, I’d be stuck in my old life again. Parties crammed with people, everyone fucked up beyond belief, alleyways with my dealer begging him to lower his prices since I’m always low on money, I can’t very well go back to my parents house, they’ve all but disowned me by now.”  
For a minute, there was silence. Then...  
“Oh, Crowley...” Solomon looked at him as he sat up. “I’m so sorry... But I have an idea.” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you come live with me?”   
Crowley burst out into laughter, and Aziraphale huffed.   
“Fine. I take it back.”  
Suddenly, Crowley froze.   
“Wait,” he looked at his friend, “you weren’t kidding?” Aziraphale shook his head.   
“My dear boy, I would never! That would be cruel.”   
Crowley looked at him, stunned. “I...” He didn’t want to appear needy, “I’ll think about it.” He saw Aziraphale’s shoulders droop and he felt a twinge of shame. “But I think I might take you up on that.” Suddenly, the other man was beaming.   
“I didn’t like living alone anyway. It’ll be absolutely delightful having you in the house with me!” He said in a cheery tone, then yawned and blinked a few time. “Well, I believe sleep is calling for me.”  
“Yeah, I think I’ll head in too.” Crowley sat down on his bed as Aziraphale laid himself down on his side, facing Crowley.   
“Goodnight, my dear.”   
“Goodnight, angel.” He answered, and rolled over, his cheeks burning.   
How the hell was he supposed to keep his secret if they were living together. It was going to come out eventually, so...  
“Hey, angel?” He started quietly, “I have something to tell you...” Aziraphale let out a snore, and Crowley felt a wave of relief wash over him.   
Maybe another time.   
...  
A few days later, Aziraphale was discharged, and a few days after that, Crowley was out too.   
As soon as he got his clothes back, his black jacket and shirt, his scarf, his skinny jeans, and his beloved sun glasses, he finally felt like himself, again. The first thing he did when he got out was to go to the nearest store and buy hair dye, the cheapest and, in his opinion, the best in the market. He walked out of the store with confidence, running his hand through his short, stupid, brown hair and smiled. He’d be back to normal in no time. He just had to find Hastur and-  
No. He couldn’t go back.   
A kind nurse had handed him a note from Aziraphale when he was checking out. It had told him to meet him at A. Z. Fell and Co, which was exactly what he was going to do.   
As soon as he walked in, he was overwhelmed with the smell of books, new and old. It was as quiet as a tomb, and his shoes quietly tapped on the floor as he walked over from one shelf to the next. The set-up seemed disorganized and confusing to say the least. There were stacks of books on the floor here and there, almost as if it was meant to frustrate people so much that they would never find what they were looking for.   
“Hello?” Crowley called out softly. No answer. Finally after snaking through the entire store, he managed to find a familiar face amongst the madness.   
Aziraphale sat in a nice cream colored suit, a brown waistcoat underneath, the final layer consisting of a simple white button-down shirt. On top of it all, he wore a small bow tie, tied perfectly. He was reading a book, a record player playing some Mozart in the background, perfectly content. Crowley almost felt bad ruining the moment.   
Almost.   
“Aziraphale!” He said loudly, startling him so much that he almost fell off of his chair. He looked up at Crowley who was grinning like a child with a candy bar, and shot him a look.   
“My dear boy, was that really necessary?” He said as he stood up.   
“No.” Crowley smiled even wider. “But it was fun.”   
There was a slight pause.   
“Are you here to accept my offer?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley sighed, nodding.   
“Of course, Angel, I’m not exactly the kind of person who would hang out in a book shop.” He popped the P, shoving his hands into his pockets. Aziraphale smiled.   
“Alright! Let me show you where you’ll be staying.” He walked gracefully around the stacks of books and flipped the open sign to “closed”.   
“Follow me.” He lead Crowley to the back of the store where there was a tiny staircase. “I just want to warn you that it is quite messy.” He said, walking up the staircase. “I haven’t had a friend over in years.”  
“Years?!” Crowley was shocked. How could a man like Solomon Aziraphale not have dozens of friends who would love to spend time with him?!  
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “it’s not that I don’t have friends. We meet up in shops. But, that’s on very rare occasions.”  
He lead Crowley across the apartment, through the kitchen and living room, and pushed open a door. There was hardly any furniture in the large room, just a bed with black sheets and a black and white comforter, (which was quite large) and a dresser. There weren’t any books, which was a shocker considering the fact that every room in this house was absolutely filled with them.   
“I know it’s not much to see...” Solomon looked away from Crowley and adjusted his bow tie, “but it’s what I could get at such a short notice. I was planning on buying more furniture-“  
“No!” Crowley walked in and spun around. “This-this is perfect! I love it.”  
“O-oh!” He sounded genuinely shocked and happy. “Then, here it is!”  
“I mean, it could use a TV...”   
“I’ll get one tomorrow. What size?”  
“Wait...” Crowley looked at Aziraphale, squinting, “How do you have this much money? You run a bookshop. That’s not exactly a well paying job.” The other mans cheeks went slightly pink.   
“My... my parents left me quite a bit of money, enough to last me more than a lifetime. They were... quite well off.”  
“Damn,” Crowley muttered, “the only thing my parents gave to me was self hatred and drug addiction.” There was a brief, horrified silence. “But hey, it lead to us meeting, so they actually helped me!”  
“Hm...” was all the other man could say before changing the subject to avoid anymore awkwardness. “Would you like to go out to eat? I know of a wonderful sushi restaurant on the corner that you absolutely have to try.”  
“I’ve never had sushi.” Crowley said in a quiet voice.   
“Oh, you poor thing!” Aziraphale gave him a smile that hid a hint of sadness. “Let me tempt you to a meal!”  
“As you wish!” Crowley followed him down the stairs and out of the building.   
The man in black and the man in white walked side by side discussing nothing whatsoever, just letting thoughts roll off their tongues. A few seconds later, Crowley felt as though he was being watched.   
As soon as they got to the restaurant, Aziraphale held the door open for Crowley, who glanced behind him and saw a person in the crowd that made his blood turn to ice. However, he couldn’t let that spoil his evening. Not when he was about to have dinner with his angel. He wouldn’t let his past take over his future.   
Crowley stepped inside, and Alistair faded back into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It’s been a little hard to write recently. Some stuff has been going on with me mentally, so it might be a little longer between chapters.   
On a better note, I planned out the rest of this! I might add a bonus chapter if people like it.   
This chapter and the chapter before are just necessary information that needs to be known before the next few chapters, so it’s not exactly plot heavy, but don’t worry, it gets spicy next chapter.   
Kudos are always appreciated and comments are always loved! You comment, I’ll most likely respond!   
Love you guys!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE HUGE TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM!! BE CAREFUL

The entire night seemed to be a blur and soon enough, it was morning.  
Crowley yawned and curled up under his blankets. He wasn’t ready to get up, and what would his reason be for getting up? Those were his thoughts until he smelled the glorious smell of eggs, toast, and coffee. The perfect breakfast. He grabbed his sunglasses, sat up, and ruffled his hair before walking out of the room, trying to look cool.  
He was almost drooling as he walked into the kitchen and stood behind Aziraphale who was once again in a very nice suit. Right before he was about to announce his presence loudly in order to startle his friend, Solomon sighed.   
“Good morning, Crowley,” He said, not looking up from the pan, “how did you sleep?”   
“I slept well, thank you.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’d... you sleep?” God, he was awkward.   
“Fine.” Sol’s tone was strange and flat. It didn’t sound like him, but maybe that was just him in the morning. But Crowley had seen him every morning for the past month and he had never acted like this. He slid the eggs onto the plate and walked it over to the table in the dining area. “Bon appetit!” He gave Crowley a forced smile as he sat down in one of the chairs, sitting up straight. He always had such wonderful posture. It was quite adorable.   
Crowley forced the thought out of his head and sat down across from him. As he started ravenously eating his eggs, he noticed that Aziraphale hadn’t given himself any food. Instead, he was drinking hot chocolate from a mug with angel wings decorating it’s handle.   
“The mug suits you!” Crowley said, instantly regretting it. Luckily, Aziraphale just smiled a (real) smile. “You think so?”  
Crowley nodded, shooting him a (hopefully) charming smile back. He had completely forgotten about his initial intention, which was to ask Aziraphale if he wanted some of his food, and finished his plate within a few minutes.   
“Well,” Aziraphale stood up, “I should be opening my shop, and you look like you could do with a nice day in. I ordered the TV yesterday, but for now you can... do whatever you’d like, except harm my books. I don’t want to see any pages torn out when I get back.” He looked at Crowley pointedly, a gleam of humor in his eyes. He knew that, despite the fact that Crowley wasn’t necessarily the biggest fan of books, he would never dream of harming any.   
“Which-which one is your favorite?” Crowley asked. He wanted to be able to quote from Aziraphale’s favorite book whenever he wanted to, so he’d have to start reading it as soon as possible. He wanted to be able to recite the full book within a week.   
“The Importance of Being Ernest,” was his answer, and Crowley internally cheered. That was one book that he had read in high school. Even though he hadn’t liked it, he did remember some bits and pieces of it. Aziraphale walked into his room, then came back holding a very well read copy. “I have one of the original ones,” he said, excitedly, “but I don’t want you to have to deal with the gloves and give you the talk about what to do with my old books, so here is my copy.” He patted the cover lovingly, then handed it over hesitantly to Crowley, who gently took it and read the back as if he had never read it. There was a tiny stain on the arm of the white jacket, a very tiny pink dot. He paid no attention to it.   
“Looks interesting.” Crowley said as he walked over to the couch. He glanced at Aziraphale who looked excited beyond belief to be able to share something he loved with someone he cared about.   
“Well, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything!” Aziraphale said as he walked down the stairs, and Crowley instantly got to work trying to memorize the book.   
It couldn’t be that hard, could it?  
After the first few hours, Crowley couldn’t take it anymore. He growled in frustration, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back. Both of them hurt from leaning over for so long, and he decided to head out. He got dressed into his normal clothes, then decided that he needed to have more than one outfit and one pajama.   
“Ziraphale!” He called as he walked down the stairs.   
“Yes?” Solomon sounded distant, obviously with his nose in some book.   
“‘M going out to get some stuff. Clothes. Anyway, I’ll be back. If I don’t come back in a few hours, assume that I’m dead.” He joked, then heard a thud as Aziraphale ran over to him.   
“My dear boy, please don’t go if you think you’re in danger! Losing you would be devastating to me!”   
“It’s just a joke, angel.” He sighed, face palming.   
“O-oh.” Aziraphale’s cheeks went bright red as he turned away. “Then, I’ll see you later. Call if you need anything. I’m here.”   
That’s when it hit him. Aziraphale hadn’t called him ‘dear boy’ until he was almost out the door. When he thought he was in danger. What was he hiding from him?   
He decided the answer could wait.   
Crowley walked to the nearest clothing store and bought what seemed to him like a reasonable amount of clothes. There were a few gray shirts, several black ones, a bunch of skinny jeans, a few sweatpants, and some nice black jackets.   
When he looked at the register, he went pale. There went all of his money.   
As he was walking back, he realized something.   
The pink dot.   
The weird way Aziraphale had been acting.   
It suddenly made sense, and Crowley’s stomach dropped. How could he be so blind? He found himself sprinting towards the bookshop. As soon as he got there, he flipped the sign to closed, then walked quickly towards Aziraphale. He threw his new clothes on the desk and Solomon jumped in surprise.   
“Crowley?” He looked up blearily. “What’s this about?”   
“I know what you did.” He said in a low voice, and his friend went pale.   
“I’m sure I don’t know-“  
“How bad is it?”   
“What are you-“   
“Damnit Aziraphale!” He slammed his hand on the desk and Solomon jumped out of his chair.   
“Stop this nonsense!” He growled.   
Crowley reached over the desk and grabbed his arm, and he hissed in pain. His eyes widened and he looked at the floor.   
“It... I needed...” He couldn’t seem to continue. Then, Crowley remembered what it was like to be caught. How small you felt. How ashamed. How miserably alone as the other person reacted, whether it was horror or anger or just sadness didn’t matter. It felt the same. He took a deep breath, walked around the desk, and pulled Aziraphale into a hug.   
“It’s okay.” He said. “I understand how hard it is. You don’t have to show me. Just promise me you’ll tell me if you feel the urge again?” He felt Aziraphale press his forehead against his shoulder.   
“I can’t promise that.” He whispered.   
Crowley let it go, remaining silent, and held onto his friend tighter.   
...  
After that, neither of them really spoke much to each other the rest of the day. Crowley tried to strike up conversations, but if Aziraphale responded, it was only a word or two. Half of the time, he didn’t answer.   
Later that night as they were both getting ready for bed, Crowley decided to check on Aziraphale, and boy he was happy he did.   
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, crying silently. In his hand, he held a razor against his already bleeding arm.  
“Aziraphale...” Solomon’s head jerked up. He looked dazed and scared, shaking.   
“What are you doing in here?” He said in a whisper as Crowley entered the room, slowly walking towards him.   
“Please put it down.” He said in a calming voice, trying hard to not let his emotions of anguish and hurt show. Hesitantly, he placed the razor on his side table.   
As soon as he did, Crowley rushed towards him and took his arm. There were only a few marks that were bleeding currently, but there were other ones that were fresh. Some of them had opened up again, and Crowley started to worry about all of the blood seeping out of the wounds.   
“We gotta get you cleaned up.”  
“I can do it on my own.”   
“I’m not letting you out of my damn sight for the rest of the night, Aziraphale, whether you like it or not.” Crowley said. His voice was almost a growl as he practically dragged his friend to the bathroom. He put Aziraphale’s arm in the sink and began to wash the blood off. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked before, he definitely wouldn’t be needing stitches, but it was still bad enough. Aziraphale winced and Crowley muttered an apology for every hiss of pain.   
As soon as he was done, he went into the cabinet and found some gauze and some padding to make sure that it didn’t irritate the wounds, then wrapped his arm gently, but tight enough that he knew that it would keep pressure on the cuts so that they could heal.   
“Okay, you should be fine in a little bit.” Crowley said in a tone that he hoped would be reassuring. In reality, he was extremely shaken and worried. As Aziraphale walked back to his room, Crowley followed. His friend gave him a strange look.   
“Hey, when I said I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight, I meant it.” He crossed his arms and Aziraphale rolled his eyes.   
Both of the men were exhausted, but Crowley made sure to stay up until he heard soft snoring from the other side of the bed. After that, he hunkered down, put his glasses on the side table, and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.   
...  
The next day, he woke up to an empty room. For a second he panicked, hoping that Aziraphale hadn’t done anything extremely stupid. He then saw a note. It was short, but made Crowley’s panic sink away.   
“Thank you for last night. I’m currently tending the shop. Your breakfast is on the table.   
With love,  
Sol”  
That last part left Crowley blushing like a school girl.   
“With love”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I’m currently sick and having a little bit of a hard time at school, so if you see any typos, feel free to tell me and I’ll fix it. Once again, I am posting late at night.   
It’s been a rough day.   
If you have thoughts of self harm, please ask for help. You are not alone.   
Anywhoo, I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite how frickin dark it is!  
If you leave comments and kudos, I will love you forever! Plus, I live off of them. They motivate me to write more.  
Love you all and I hope you have a great day!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence in this chapter! Just a heads up. Stay safe, guys!

After that night, Crowley started to pay attention to Aziraphale’s habits, and Aziraphale paid attention to his. They kept each other on track, however, Aziraphale seemed hesitant to change, and it seemed like he was hesitant about getting better as well. It worried Crowley to no end, but as long as he was there, he was going to make sure his friend was okay.   
While Aziraphale slept, Crowley went into the kitchen, the bathroom, and even Aziraphale’s room to collect all of the objects that he could possibly use to harm himself and hid them in a place where he knew Sol wouldn’t be able to reach. Early in the morning, Crowley heard him yell his name.   
“Yeah?” He called sleepily. He was laying on his bed face down into the pillow, his body taking up his entire bed. Somehow, he’d thrown off his black tank top across the room in his sleep and he was in no hurry to get up and get it, so he just left it alone.   
“Where are my knives?”  
“The butter knives are still in the drawer.” He called and sighed in relief. Solomon hadn’t found them yet.   
“I meant the others!” There was no way Aziraphale could touch them, even if he did know where they were, but Crowley was still hesitant to tell. Soon enough, Aziraphale stood in his doorway, his arms crossed. “This isn’t funny!”  
“I know ‘s not.” Crowley slurred, still waking up. “Better for you not to know.”  
“Anthony Crowley,” Aziraphale started, obviously trying to use his most intimidating voice, “you tell me where they are, or so help me, I’ll... I’ll...”  
Crowley looked at him. “Or what?”  
Aziraphale opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then closed it, sighing.   
“I guess you are right to hide them.” He said, looking down at the ground and rubbing his healing arm. He let out a weak smile. “I’m sorry, my dear boy, I just got a little carried away.”  
“‘S okay.” Mumbled Crowley as he rubbed his eyes. He yawned and stretched and looked up to see... no, that wasn’t right. He thought he had seen Aziraphale blushing right before he turned away, but he must have been imagining it. He must have. Right?  
That thought played through his mind over and over again as he got dressed and went out to meet his friend for breakfast. There were two plates sat at the table, one in front of Aziraphale, and one across the table where Crowley always sat. The plates were both filled with eggs, toast, and 2 sausages, the perfect breakfast. As he walked into the kitchen, Solomon looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.   
“Hello!” He placed his bookmark in his book, then closed it and placed it on the table. They had a rule that there were to be no books or smart phones at the table as they ate. This was rather unnecessary since they enjoyed each other’s company.   
“‘Morning, Aziraphale.” He sat down at his place and scarfed down his meal before Aziraphale could even finish his sausages. All he had left was his coffee, which he sipped slowly, savoring the flavor. “I hope you don’t mind that I bought a few movies. Just a few documentaries about snakes and such.”  
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Solomon smiled. “May I watch them with you? Snakes are something I’ve never even thought to explore. I guess you could say they are sort of weak spot for me.”  
“Yeah! I mean,” Crowley backtracked, thinking that he was a little too enthusiastic at first, “it is your money. I shouldn’t even really be using it in the first place.”  
“Nonsense!” Aziraphale took a bite of his toast, still in the middle of eating. “I like to give all I can to people I care about who need support. And I certainly care a lot for you, my dear boy.”   
“Ngk...” was all Crowley could muster, getting up from the table to try and escape before his blush became apparent. “Do you mind if I use your laptop? I need to look in to getting a job. Hopefully one that isn’t horribly boring or irritating.”   
“Go ahead! I have never used it. It just confuses me.” He chuckled a little. “I have a hard time even turning it on! It’s-“  
“Under the sofa, I know,” Crowley reached down to get it, “I was there when you accidentally kicked it, remember?”   
“Oh.” Aziraphale looked away, embarrassed. “Well, I should be opening the shop. If you need me-“  
“I know where to find you.” Crowley met his eyes and pushed his sunglasses higher on the bridge of his nose as they smiled at each other. If the other man saw his eyes, they would show too much. His sunglasses were his protection.   
A few hours later, as Crowley was finished with his first application, he heard Aziraphale call him. He rushed down the stairs, not even closing the laptop.   
“Yes, angel? What...”   
A man stood next to Aziraphale’s desk. He wore a police uniform, which almost made him look less like a lanky adolescent teen. His glasses looked like something that a much older generation would have considered “classy”. His hair was an absolute mess, and his grey eyes were wide open in surprise.   
“Hello, Anthony.” Officer Pulsifer stood before him, the man who had put him into the hospital in the first place, the man who had caught him so many times with his friends and attempted to “get them help” by arresting the people that he could and having their parents decide what to do with them. The man who had told his parents about his drug habits. It was because of him that Crowley was disowned by his family, kicked out onto the streets like a piece of garbage. He growled and charged at him, shoving him so hard against one of the shelves that he almost knocked the shelf down on top of him. Pulsifer, obviously caught off-guard, slammed hard into it, but stood his ground.   
“Leave me the fuck alone!” Growled Crowley, and suddenly he felt someone’s hands pulling him away. He tried to shake the hands off, but they were too strong. Aziraphale spun him around to face him.   
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” He demanded. “Officer Pulsifer was just here to see how you were doing!”  
“I don’t care!” Crowley screamed. “He ruined my life, he took EVERYTHING from me, and he thinks he can just show up-“  
“Crowley, you’re acting ridiculous-“  
“You shut the fuck up!” He growled. “You have no idea what it’s like. No idea, you privileged prick.”  
Aziraphale reeled back as if he was hit. Tears started to form in his eyes, and Crowley instantly regretted what he said.   
“Angel, I-“  
“I think you should go, Crowley.” He said softly. “I think you should get some air.”  
“I’m-“  
“We both need our space, Anthony.” He insisted. Crowley looked up, shocked. He had hardly heard Aziraphale call him anything but ‘Crowley’, his chosen name. Hearing his first name from his friend was like a bombshell. He balled his fists up, shoved them in his pockets, and left.   
He had only walked a few blocks from the bookshop when he felt a hand reach out and yank him into an alleyway.   
“Hello, Crowley!” Said a familiar voice as someone’s fist went into his stomach.   
“Bee,” he gasped, “I can explain-“  
“We haven’t seen you in a while!” They smiled coldly down at him as one of their henchmen, held him from behind. “You know I have to get my money one of these days. Rent isn’t cheap.”  
“I don’t even live with you anymore!” This comment earned him a fist to the face.   
“Now...” Bee pulled out a set of brass knuckles. “Henry, I think we need to teach him a lesson.” They grinned as they pulled back their fist again.   
Soon, all Crowley knew was pain. He was being pummeled with blows from every side as he lay in the fetal position, unable to protect himself. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to crawl away when he felt someone put their leg on his back. The person grabbed his right arm and twisted it harshly behind his back until he felt a pop and a crack. Extreme agony flooded through him and he screamed. The others laughed as he felt tears well in his eyes, but he wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. A kick landed directly on his temple and he had almost lost consciousness when a voice rang out.   
“Crowley!” He heard someone call. It was someone who definitely shouldn’t be here. Someone who didn’t belong. He looked up to see Aziraphale looking down at him in horror.   
“Angel...”  
“Keep moving!” Bee pushed him away, and Crowley closed his eyes. Someone stepped on the back of his head and he felt his face hit the pavement. “This is none of your concern.”  
“That is my friend!” Aziraphale insisted. “You will let him go at once!”   
“And what if we don’t?”   
BANG!  
The blast of a gunshot rang out and everything seemed to freeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
Dun dun DUUUUN! A cliffhanger! I’m really sick and I wrote this while I was really sick, so if it is sub par, I am so sorry! I only read over it once.   
This chapter is really angsty, but the last chapters are really gonna be nice. I’m putting these guys through hell, but it’ll have a good ending, I swear!   
Kudos and comments are amazing! They stir up my writing motivation, so if you want to see more chapters, kudos or comments will get me to write more quickly!   
Love you all!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide mentioned in this chapter!

Crowley did a quick body scan and, while he was sure of several broken ribs, a broken leg, and a dislocated and broken arm, he was also sure that he had not been shot. If he wasn’t shot, then they must have shot...  
“Aziraphale...” he whimpered as he looked up, dreading what he’d see. What he did see, however, made him question his own sanity.   
Aziraphale stood in right front of him, holding the gun into the air. He slowly lowered it until it was level with Bee’s head.   
“You so much as take one more look at him and I won’t hesitate.” He said as calmly as he could.   
“You’re bluffing,” Bee laughed nervously, “you’d never hurt a fly.”   
“Would you like to stick around and find out?” He tightened his finger on the trigger, and Crowley heard Henry stepping nervously away. The other few cronies had the same idea.   
“Boss,” Henry warned, “we really shouldn’t. I recognize him. His family practically owns London.”  
Bee clenched their jaw and with a swift motion, they leaned down and whispered, “if you tell him anything, I’ll be sure to get rid of both of you,” then turned tail and ran.   
Aziraphale immediately knelt down and helped Crowley sit up, propping him up and assessing the damage. Every time Crowley took a breath, he wheezed, and felt an intense pressure-like pain. It almost felt like he had run a marathon and couldn’t quite catch his breath.   
“Hey, Angel!” He threw a weak smile his way as he wheezed. “Fancy... seeing you here.” Blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt.   
“Oh, Crowley...” he said with a sad look in his eyes.   
“I... I don’t know if this time, I’ll be okay...”  
“Don’t say that!”  
“But... I need to say-“  
“You’ll tell me when this is over, okay?!” Tears gathered in Aziraphale’s eyes.   
“I love you. Sounds like a schoolgirl said it but... I needed you to know it...” Crowley tried to focus his eyes on Aziraphale’s to try and see what the other man felt for him, when he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.   
...  
“Crowley?” Aziraphale patted Crowley’s cheek. “Please, my dear boy, say something!”   
He felt his emotions bubbling up and trying to pour out when he caught himself. He had to pull himself together so that they could both come out of this.   
Aziraphale fished in his pocket for his phone and immediately called 999. As soon as he was done, he picked Crowley up and hugged him close to his chest.   
“We’re going to get out of this.” He muttered. “Don’t you worry. We WILL both make it out alive.”  
The ambulance arrived soon, and as they took Crowley from his arms, he felt alone and, frankly, quite scared. He had never been in a situation like this before.   
Of course, there were a few situations where he had to protect his friends from people who were hurting them, but ever since he left school, there hadn’t been very many friends to protect. The people that he used to call “friends” had started using him for his money or had forgotten who he was altogether. That was why he tried to stay away from everyone and hid in his shop all day. No one ever came in.   
Except Nathan.   
Nathan was the one friend who had never forgotten or tried to use Aziraphale in any way, shape, or form. They had met in the hospital. The first time Aziraphale had attempted suicide, Nathan was his roommate. At first, Aziraphale wouldn’t talk to anyone, but Nathan danced around him, trying to get a smile, a laugh, anything out of him that he could. At first it was just one word or two.   
Then, one night, everything came pouring out. How he felt alone. Felt that no one would listen to him. That no one ever cared what he had to say so long as it was something good about them. That it ALWAYS had to be something good about them. That HE didn’t matter to them. How he didn’t matter to anyone.   
Nathan had walked over, took his hand, and had told him that he mattered to at least one person.   
Ever since then, they had always been close. They cared for each other. They had little physical and verbal codes that told each other what was happening mentally. The last time they went into the hospital, they came in together.  
When Aziraphale had left the hospital the last time, he had left 2 notes, one for Crowley and one for Nathan.  
But Crowley was different, and he hadn’t known why. Something about Crowley made him want to become his friend, to get to know him. He wanted to help him. Crowley smacking him sealed the deal. It made him really stick out from the bunch as someone who would do anything to protect him from himself.   
Now here he was, at the hospital, waiting for the doctors to tell him when he could go back. He waited for a few hours, and just as he was about to lose hope, he saw a familiar face walking towards him.   
“Zira, what the hell are you doing back here again?!” Nathan touched his shoulder, his way of showing that he was open to physical contact. Aziraphale jumped up and hugged Nathan, trying not to cry into his shirt.   
“It’s not for you this time, is it?” He asked in a quiet tone, and Solomon nodded. “What happened to Crowley?”  
Aziraphale pulled away from the hug in shock.   
“How did you know?” Nathan just gave him a look. “Well... you see, we got into a fight and I insisted that he should go so that we both would have the chance to calm down. The next thing I know, I feel the urge to run after him. Something told me that he was in danger and...”   
“He’s a strong guy, Zira.” Nathan sat down next to him and put his hand on his arm. “He’ll get through this.”  
“I do hope so,” Aziraphale looked at the ground, “and if not, well, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself.”  
“Mr. Aziraphale?” A nurse called out, and they both jumped up. “You may come with me.”  
As they walked down the corridor, the two men remained completely silent. Nathan held his hand out to Aziraphale, who took it and squeezed gently in thanks. The beeping and commotion of the hospital seemed far away to Sol, as if he was watching it on a TV instead of living through it. His brain couldn’t handle the emotions, so it had completely detached him from reality and slipped into a dissociative sort of state. It wasn’t until they reached the room that Aziraphale felt himself snap back into his body.   
“He has had quite a day,” the nurse ushered them into the room and began to explain the situation. “We aren’t sure when he will regain consciousness, but we are hopeful that he will. He has a chest tube in, but we should be able to remove that within the week. He is severely concussed, so expect some confusion, dizziness, nausea, and don’t let him get up on his own, he most likely will be unstable on his feet.”  
She said a little bit more, but Aziraphale had stopped paying attention. Instead, his attention was fixed on the brown haired man who was laying on the hospital bed in front of them. He looked so pale. The only reason Aziraphale knew he was still alive was from the rise and fall of his chest and the beeping of the monitors. There were stitched up cuts all over the left side of his face, his eye swollen, the tissue black and blue. His arm right arm and left leg were both in casts.  
As he stared at the man, he felt as though someone had stabbed him through the chest. He had done this. He caused his friend so much pain. He could hardly face the reality of the situation.   
“Aziraphale?” Nathan gestured to the chair next to the bed. “You look like you’re about to faint.”   
Aziraphale lowered himself down into the chair and sighed, his face in his hands.   
“My god... Nathan what have I done?”   
“Look, mate,” Nathan leaned down, “listen to me. He’s still here. If you hadn’t found him when you did, he wouldn’t be, but you saved him, Solomon.”  
“I...” Aziraphale paused, “I think I need a moment alone with him.”   
Nathan blinked at him. “You’ll be safe?” Aziraphale nodded, and Nathan left the room, closing the door behind him.   
Aziraphale reached down and took Crowley’s left hand into his own.   
“Hello, my dear boy,” he started, smiling at him even though he couldn’t see, “I know that you can’t hear me, but I just need to tell you something. When I met you, I knew you were different from everyone. You stood out like a sore thumb. Not in a bad way,” he added hurriedly, “but in a... I don’t know how to describe it. You proved to be quite a good friend to me, very attentive and caring. I don’t deserve such a friend after what I’ve done to you. You are one of the best things to have ever happened to me, and frankly, Crowley, I think I might be in love with you as well.” Tears began to flow down Aziraphale’s face. ”But you deserve someone who won’t do this to you. Someone who won’t throw you out on the street after a simple fight. Someone who can treasure you and your quirks. Someone who shares your adventurous heart and ambition. Someone better than me. Crowley, I love you, but I have to let you go.”  
Just as Aziraphale stood up, he felt Crowley’s hand grip onto his.   
“You know that’s bullshit.” Crowley opened his eyes and stared at Aziraphale. “There is no one better than you, Angel. And if one of us doesn’t deserve the other, it’s me.”  
“Oh, please do shut up.” Aziraphale said, pressing Crowley’s hand to his lips, causing Crowley to go scarlet.  
“I think you both make a great couple.” Both Aziraphale and Crowley looked to the doorway to see Nathan leaning against the doorframe, grinning ear-to-ear.   
“Nathan!” Aziraphale turned almost as red as Crowley. “You said you’d be outside!”  
“I got bored.” Nathan shrugged. “So, you guys gonna kiss or what?”  
Crowley looked at Aziraphale and gave him his best puppy-dog expression.   
“Please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for sticking with me through this. I could continue a series with these guys which could be rather nice or sad or intense after this is over, which it almost is. The next chapter is pure fluff, just completely painfully fluffy, and then that’s that!  
I did struggle writing this chapter, so if it’s a little OOC for Aziraphale, it’s because I’m just so used to seeing stuff through Crowley’s POV.   
Let me know if you’d want more in a series or if you think I should leave it as it is on it’s own.   
Leave some kudos if you like this work so far, and give me a comment if you want! I thrive off of kudos and comments.


	10. Chapter 10

“C’mon, Aziraphale!” Crowley hobbled into the clearing, Aziraphale a few feet behind carrying the picnic basket and blanket.   
“You know, it doesn’t do us any good if you keep telling me to speed up.” Aziraphale complained, trying not to get his suit dirty as he finally made it out of the woods.   
“Well, it’s not like we have forever!” Crowley stretched out his arms and yawned. “After all, it only happens once a day.”  
They both finally reached the middle of the clearing which was a small hill, the perfect place for a small picnic. Crowley helped Aziraphale place down the blanket and as soon as it was down, Crowley fell down onto it and sighed.   
“I told you to be more careful!” Aziraphale chided. “You had a lot of broken bones to heal, and it’s not like it’s been that long of a time between then and now. I have no idea how you convinced me to do this.”   
Crowley lay down on his back and closed his eyes. Aziraphale was quite obviously being a mother hen about this whole situation, which was rather frustrating but also made Crowley very happy. He had only been this cared for once, and that was a long time ago under very different circumstances.   
“It was pretty easy.” He said, lifting up his head and shooting a smile at his boyfriend. “You’re a pretty soft touch.”   
Aziraphale went red and looked at the ground.   
“Angel, that’s not a bad thing.” He put his hand on Solomon’s. “It’s just who you are. Plus, I was half joking. It’s because you love me.”  
Aziraphale smiled.   
“That I do, my love.” As soon as those words came out of Aziraphale’s mouth, Crowley turned as red as a tomato. He felt his heart rate suddenly speed up, and he choked on his own spit. As soon as he started coughing, the other man reached out and pulled him up into a sitting position so he could breathe easier.   
“I’m- I’m sorry,” his angel started to backtrack, “was that going too fast? I-I didn’t-“  
“No, angel,” he looked up and leaned back against him, “you’re perfect.”  
Aziraphale sat back down next to him and he laid his head into his lap with his eyes closed, feeling his angel tense, then relax and begin to hum. A few seconds later, Crowley felt a hand slowly and gently comb through his hair. It felt so good that he let out a deep breath and nuzzled into it. For a moment, the hand paused and the humming ceased, and he looked up, slightly saddened by the lack of humming and hair playing.   
“Angel-“  
“Look, Crowley...” he pointed at the horizon where the sun had started setting. This was it. The reason they had driven so far out of the city.   
As the sun slowly set, they watched the different colors paint the sky; red, yellow, orange, all of the colors of the rainbow and more. They chatted, ate, but mostly watched. After the colors changed into a navy blue, they both laid back on the blanket, staring at the stars. Aziraphale would point out constellations and tell the stories about them, but all Crowley could hear was the voice of his angel, and slowly he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m super sorry this short-ass chapter took me so long. My mental health has been utterly horrible lately, so I’m really struggling to do my work as well as this.   
But!!!   
Good news! I have plans for a second fic for this series!   
If you like this, leave a comment or kudos! I respond to most comments pretty quickly, but if I don’t respond to your comment, it’s either that I didn’t know what to say or I didn’t see it.  
Thank you so much to everyone who supported this fic throughout the whole thing! I love you guys!  
See you guys in the next one!


	11. Update

Hey guys! The sequel is FINALLY coming out! The updates will be slow, but I guarantee that I’ll get it all written out in due time.  
Thanks for reading!  
Love,  
TakeItEezy


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